A misunderstood group gathered under the protection of the forest. Shaken from being chased away by the townspeople who didn't understand them or their customs. A simple nomadic style tribe branded as witches and heathens by the ignorant masses.
Gathered around they looked at the groups elder for guidance.
"So they have cast us aside. So be it." The leader stated. "Well we came in peace and they repay us like this."
He looked intently at the faces of his followers, now few in number "Well if our kind is to survive we need to find a way to live and breed, our numbers are few."
As they pondered the problem the old witch approached him "We will become like the cuckoo."
"What?" The leader replied.
"We will plant our seeds into the towns women they will raise our children for us and then with this calling spell, they will return to us when they are fully grown."
The leader nodded his approval the perfect revenge he thought.
"I will select the most virile males for the task, then enhance his capabilities with my fertility spell."
"Go on then what? How do they get a mate?" The leader asked.
"Oh that part is easy, by force if necessary but I feel a needy woman will succumb willingly if enough persuasion is applied." She laughed as she waved her wand in the air.
"Every eighteen years the cuckoo's will return via this spell to seed the next generation." She waved the wand again, the air crackled like lightning the deed was done.
From that point on every eighteen years a random town reported the odd disappearance of a young eighteen year old male.
Zara Carter sat forlornly staring at the indicator on the pregnancy test kit and sighed. Another months planning gone with expensive medical treatments and still nothing. Shaken from her funk by her husband knocking on the door "Are you alright love? You have been in there ages."
"No I'm not alright Alan all our friends have their families but we are getting nowhere." She sobbed as she unlocked the door to the bathroom.
"Come here love." He said putting his arms around her to comfort her she sobbed into his shoulder making his shirt wet.
"We just have to be patient." He softly said.
"Oh Alan that treatment we had has emptied our account and we can't afford another go."
"Its ok love we will keep trying it will happen for us I know it will." Alan was doing his best to cheer her up but it was getting harder with every passing month. He sensed that there will be another blazing row about it when he came home from work and it wasn't the right time to confess that he had an extremely low sperm count problem.
After Zara had calmed herself down and her husband had left, she checked their bank accounts. The hard facts stared her in the face they really didn't have anything left for another round of treatment.
Depressed she headed out for a walk. Zara walked aimlessly and soon found a bench overlooking the sea. As she sat with her head in her hands an old woman approached her.
"What irks you child?" She asked with a look of concern etched on her wrinkled face.
Zara looked up from her day dream brushing her ginger hair out of her face as her eyes focused on the kindly old lady in front of her.
"I'm Ok thank-you." Zara replied unconvincingly.
"Tell me child I can help you." The old lady encouraged.
Not really wanting to tell this old stranger their fertility problems in her distressed state Zara unexpectedly ended up blurting it out surprising herself.
"Now child I can help you if you wish me to"
Zara's mind whirled 'there is no way on earth this kindly stranger could help. If the finest medical treatment money can buy doesn't work there is nothing this old lady can do'. She replied "No I don't think you can, but thanks for your concern."
The old lady pressed some dried flowers into her hand "Bless you child if you change your mind come and find me I can help you." And then she departed leaving the pretty redhead confused on the bench.
All the way home she mused upon her encounter with the strange old lady. Arriving at her house she realised she still had the flowers in her hand. Gazing at them she thought they were oddly attractive and popped them into a vase. For some bizarre reason the only place they would fit was her bedroom dresser.
A couple of days had passed and life for Zara and Alan had returned to somewhat normal. Late one evening Zara got out her charts and looked over the data regarding her cycle. Alan looked over at his wife and said the words he wished he hadn't as soon as he had said them "Give it a break poppet, all this pressure isn't helping."
"Give it a break!" She yelled "Give it a break I'm thirty one Alan I haven't got time to give it a break."
"I meant." Not letting him finish.
"My damn body clock is ticking faster and faster and you want to give it a break, well fuck you!" She wailed and stormed out of the room. Slam went the bathroom door followed by a click of the lock.